071.

[7thborn]

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[7thborn]

[She had cut herself off from the network after a certain point. The barrage of words, either of comfort or distraction, fell on unseeing eyes not too long ago and she needed to get away. How often has Ginny herself offered the same for people who have lost others? How often did it actually help? Finally being on the other side of it after a disarmingly peaceful stretch of time is like a blow to the stomach and she finds herself struggling for breath at the most innocent reminders. The bracelet on her wrist from Fred, the apartment that still has Claire written all over it... and Harry, Harry everywhere-photographs, empty voicemails that have nothing but his laughter before the phone ends it, always too soon. He was just here. They all were

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[7thborn]

[It is important. When he agrees and something about it catches the breath in her throat, she knows he's at least understood on some level because-yes, not just in the war, but here too, having that connection is sometimes about the only thing that can keep you sane. Ginny isn't sure how she would have handled the war and the rebellion if she had no family at her back, no DA at her side, no Harry in her heart. She doesn't think she would have given up, far from it, but they all gave her something worth fighting for instead of just the base instinct to survive.

(And when she fights in the battle, no matter how reckless she gets or how close to death she brushes, she will keep fighting; even when the losses cripple her as neatly as any curse. Because if she dies, fine, it's war-but to leave the others behind, to hurt them like Fred has, she couldn't. So she lives and breathes and fights for them. All of them.)]

Yeah-it is.

[Ginny finds herself wandering over to sit back down on the bed, hating how cold and empty it is and how it's

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[aperfectthird]

[He doesn't follow - he knows he's not welcome. Instead, he folds his arms over his chest and goes to the window, pushing aside the coverings to peer out over the surroundings. To be entirely honest, he's not sure what he's looking for. Enemy soldiers? Potter? Fred? Reinforcements? Whatever it is, he's not seeing it, and he presses his lips together, briefly, before looking back at Ginny.]

But you don't regret it.

[It's not a question.]

Cutting yourself off doesn't work. At least, not for long. Of course you should know better, but it never sticks.

[He's saying 'you,' but it's clearly more of an editorial 'you' than a direct reference to Ginny.]

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[7thborn]

[The war is a faraway memory for her. Never faded, just distant, literally a different world-and where Percy looks out at the forest as if it's a battlefield, Ginny simply sees a forest (and a memory of two monsters lumbering from it, the rake of talons, but that's not for right now). How strange it is to be tethered more tightly, it seems, to this world than your own. But no matter how far the divide between her experiences here and her family's experiences in England grows, they're still family. And they're all she has now; before, she didn't even have that.

Is the hurt worth making the connections? Yes. Of course she doesn't regret it, not one moment.]

No. [She pauses, swiping the pads of her fingers under her eyes as they look up to the ceiling, and she tries to take another deep breath, still shuddering in her chest with repressed tears.] Are we talking about me, now, or you?

[The words could be unkind, but her voice is genuinely curious, without even the faintest edge it's held since his arrival. She's too tired for hostility

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[aperfectthird]

[The forest makes him think of the Forbidden Forest, makes him think of centaurs charging out, Acromantulas, flames licking at wood -

He puts his hand on his right arm, rubs it absently, pulls himself back together. Focus. This is not about you, this is about Ginny. You are being selfish. Deal with yourself later.

At her words, he shrugs, shakes his head a little.]

I suppose you could argue we were discussing us. It seems to be a constant in the human experience.

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[7thborn]

[He's making it academic. Her lips twist a bit in mild irritation, but it only goes skin-deep-this is Percy, is she really so surprised he's begun throwing around things like human experience? Ginny isn't even looking at him, looking down now to toe off her boots and draw her feet up onto the edge of the bed with her so she can set her chin on the tops of her knees, her arms wrapping around. Times like these are when she feels as young as she ought to be, and she closes her eyes as her shoulders move into a sort of rolling shrug.]

Or just Gryffindor Weasleys.

[She pauses for a moment, then her eyes drift open, too bright and hazy, and seek out Percy.]

Was it hard, Percy? Cutting yourself off from us. You acted like you wanted to do it.

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[aperfectthird]

[He's quiet for a long time - long enough that it might be a logical conclusion to draw that he's simply not answering, or hoping she'll forget she asked the question by avoiding the topic long enough. But if Ginny cares to look at him, she might notice that he's clearly thinking about his answer, very carefully. He's fiddling with the cuff of his shirtsleeve, but then seems to realize he's fidgeting, consciously stops himself. Finally, he speaks.]

No. It wasn't.

[This ... likely wasn't the answer she was expecting, so he continues, still quiet, gazing at a point in the middle distance that isn't quite her but isn't quite inside his head, either.]

Cutting myself off was far easier than it should have been.

[He remembers that sleepless night spent on Wood's uncomfortable couch, shaking with rage, silently condemning his father and his paranoia, going round and round in circles, so angry, so confused, so betrayed.]

But staying away was the hardest thing I've ever done.

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[7thborn]

[And she is watching him, very quietly and very carefully. It's a question she's been turning over in her head for years, now, replaying the night her third oldest brother left in a flurry. Mum crying, Dad shaking, unable to get answers out of either of them for hours. The crack of Apparition, running up the stairs to the next landing to find Percy's bedroom empty. Ginny had been angry, all of them had been, siding with Dad and not daring to share Mum's hope that he'd come back after all that. And she'd taken it apart, wondered how a Weasley could leave the rest like that, wondered if there was something she or any of their brothers could have done differently to change it. Apologised for all the jokes and the teasing that comes so naturally to them as a family, maybe, but that's just who they are.

And Percy, hardworking and high-strung Percy, had been the only one there for her during the whole Chamber business. The only one who noticed she wasn't right. She can't forget that, couldn't, so why had he left them? How could he have

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[aperfectthird]

Why what? Why was it hard? I missed you.

[And that is probably meant to be a generic you, but it's clear that on some level, it is definitely a specific one. Of his entire family, he had missed his mother and baby sister so much it hurt, but he couldn't go back. Going back was tantamount to admitting his father had been right, that Minister Fudge had only wanted him as a spy, but Arthur was wrong. Pride had kept Percy away for far too long, kept him from being there for Ginny when she needed him, when his family needed him - from everything.]

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[7thborn]

You could've come back.

[Sooner is the unspoken word tacked on to the end of her murmured reply. Although Percy hasn't spoken about that memory, Fred did-not in full, she couldn't ask him that, but he'd been so sharp with her when she made the old comments about their estranged brother. It hadn't been an admonishment, but it was enough to render her speechless, enough to make her feel deeply apologetic, enough to make her wish for a moment that Percy would turn up in the City so she could try to put things right.

He came back to us, Gin, when we needed him most. And he was there, with me-All that had been enough to forgive everything. It should have been. But then Percy did turn up, for a weekend, and all the old feelings came rushing back. And so this is her chance to truly fix it, here and now. Third time's the charm, isn't that what she keeps telling herself? Christmas lunch was a failure. The weekend, too. So make the best of now. Ginny wants to tell him she missed him too, but she misses everyone right now, and to vocalise

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[aperfectthird]

[He can't help it - there's a wince there, just for a second, because despite the tie and the perfectly pressed shirt and the otherwise immaculate appearance, he's still a raw bundle of nerves, a complete bloody mess. But it's pushed back in a moment, shoved back into its convenient cabinet where he doesn't have to look at it, because Ginny is the one hurting here and he is being selfish. He's still her big brother, for Merlin's sake, and she's got to come first.

Breathe, Weasley.]

I know. I'm lucky I did.

[Lucky you let me. Lucky I got taken back. Lucky I wasn't left out to dry.]

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[7thborn]

[She's gone too far again. Merlin's beard, she never thinks about her words and this time is no exception-in fact, this time is worse because her thoughts are scattered in about thirty different places when they need to focus on the here and now. But Ginny never meant to give him a hard time about something so long in the past, not when she can see he's doing a fine job of it himself. She studies her brother for another long moment and then the words begin to find their way out on their own, pouring from her heart and tumbling from her lips in a very soft rush of breath. Only one escapes for now, but the rest are on its heels.]

... Perce?

[Faint, tentative. No-careful, something she doesn't practice often enough because delicacy is not Ginny Weasley's strong suit, but she knows the fault lies with her here, this time. And the nickname is a gentle utterance, a memory of a past before the war blotted out warmth and family. She isn't looking at him, not really, because she doesn't know how to say this but to just say it and it's not as

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[aperfectthird]

[He glances over, sharply, at the use of the nickname. It's not one he's heard from Ginny in ages, not even now (then? well, back in England, at any rate) - though that might be because he tries not to spend too much time at the Burrow than any lack of desire on her part to use his nickname. It's certainly not one he's heard from her here, where she always seems just on this side of furious with him.

Understandably, of course.

Her apology is like a kick to the stomach. Here she is, grieving, she's just lost her brother and her boyfriend, and she's apologizing to him. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he doing this to her?

He'll ignore that he's lost a brother too, for the second time in less than a month, that he blames himself for this loss, too (should have been nicer shouldn't have doubted should have been more open), and that no, Potter will never be his favorite person but it's still a shock to lose a familiar face. If he lets himself think about that then all the perfectly pressed shirts and straightened ties won'

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[7thborn]

You can't say that.

[The words come quickly on the heels of his response, but their speed has little to do with the tone; fury or irritation might be expected, but neither lace her voice. It's something wearier, almost exasperated, and out of the corner of her eye she sees his smile but she doesn't risk looking up because she doesn't know how long she can keep her emotions at bay. And Merlin be damned if she cracks here and now in front of her oldest brother in the City.]

I'm supposed to say that. [There's something that echoes a laugh there, but it's too tight to be one.] I'm supposed to tell you not to worry and say that I'm fine. I'm only trying to put things right, you prat, I've got to, because-

[No. No, no, no, her voice is not cracking here, it can't do this to her now.]

Because Merlin knows when one of you lot'll go next and I can't leave things like this with me cross for stupid reasons, not when it'll be three bloody years again without any of you, and I... [Ginny scrubs furiously at her eyes, but she has to finish her

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[aperfectthird]

All right.

[He hesitates a moment. Normally this would be where he reaches out to her, but he already tried that, and she shrugged him off. It wasn't exactly an angry shrugging off, admittedly, but he's still not sure if it's all right to touch her again or not.]

Apology accepted, then. Thank you.

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[7thborn]

You're welcome.

[Her breath hitches and she squeezes her eyes shut, jaw tight against the way she feels like she's crumpling into herself. All she wants is to go home, too. She wishes they could all just go home and get out of here. She'd tried to walk through the portal home with Harry, even though a good bit of her knew it wouldn't work like that; but still, she'd let herself hope a little, and that was enough to set off the crushing disappointment when she appeared on the other side of the doorframe without Harry's hand in hers.

She misses him already. She misses all of them.

Ginny drops her forehead to her knees and sucks in a silent, shaking breath, trying and rather failing at holding herself together for this. And then she blurts out in a voice wavering between tears and laughter,]

So are you going to hug me or not, Perce?